What are Friends for?
by Haddyskelly
Summary: New Zealand has never had the pleasure of experiencing a climax, and as a last resort turns to the one person who knows her best. How will he go about in helping her with this? Rated M for sex scenes and course language.
1. Chapter 1

So, here's another one, guys. I know that I've sorta been starting a lot of stories rather than just continuing the ones I have, but I swear I plan on updating them all. I feel better with starting ideas I get in my head, is all, so that they're there for later.  
>This story was intended as smut, but knowing me I ended up adding more emotion and plot to it rather than just plain sex. This could have started further back, right when New Zealand was with the other girls or something, but I decided not to stray too far from the point.<br>Warnings: the first chapter is rather tame, but as time progresses it will eventually lead to more adult themes such as sex and swearing. This is the whole point of the story, after all.  
>I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers, it is respectfully owned by Hidekaz Himaruya. Thank you, and enjoy. Reviews are greatly appreciated!<p>

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><p>The meeting was more or less, as expected, rather bland. There was the occasional bicker between nations - the usual lot - while some over-stated their opinion and some stayed back altogether. New Zealand felt no reason to pay attention, and so she did not. Something being talked about whales? She didn't know. Usually on a subject matter like this she'd speak up, but today her mind was somewhere else, on something that it had been on quite a bit over the last few days. No, she couldn't touch herself in the middle of a meeting, that's absurd.<p>

New Zealand did not notice, but Australia had been looking over in her direction for a while now, just occasionally while he listened and noticed her silence. Generally on the topic of something like whaling he'd always have the little but passionate island nation backing him up while he usually told countries like Japan off. Not today, though. New Zealand was silent, and she was looking at no one. What was up with her?  
>At some point during the meeting, perhaps two thirds through, a note was passed down the table and placed in front of Australia. His name was scrawled neatly upon the folded, lined rectangle that appeared to have been ripped from a notebook or some such.<br>"Oooh, mon cher, a secret admirer?" France cooed at his side, leaning just a little too close for comfort to get a look at the note.  
>Australia scoffed. "Doubt it. Looks like Hungary's handwriting."<br>Casually, and not too expectantly, he opened the note. Halfway in this movement, however, he stopped and had to brush the curious Frenchman off.  
>"If it says anything worth it, you'll be the first to know."<br>When he opened the note discreetly in his lap and read over the words his eyebrows shot up, then pulled down to knot into a frown. He read the note a couple more times; just to be sure he had read it correctly.  
>". . . What the-"<br>Australia ended up having to rip the paper up and quickly eat it to keep France from taking it from him, after observing the Australian's rather comical reaction. It caused quite the scene.

After about three and a half hours of the same thing going back and forth, the meeting had finally come to a lunch break. After receiving the note, funnily enough, like New Zealand, Australia had fallen into a silent and thoughtful state. He couldn't help it, but he simply couldn't get that note or its contents out of his head. Was Hungary just fooling with him, or what?  
>He had to ask.<br>As all the present nations pooled out of the meeting room to help themselves to snacks, Australia took this time to stride right up to Hungary.  
>The older nation turned as she felt a tap on her shoulder.<br>"What was with that?" Australia quickly bombarded Hungary. She smiled astutely.  
>"You're her closest friend, Aussie dear. I think you deserve to know when she's having a problem."<br>"How the hell do you know this?"  
>"All us girls had a sleepover on Saturday. She was quite drunk, and rather devastated about this subject, too."<br>Australia didn't know what to say. He was frowning lightly, and his cheeks flushed.  
>He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "So then what has it got to do with me?"<br>"You know her best, idióta. Fix it."  
>Hungary turned from the stunned Australian then, leaving him in his own thoughts.<br>Despite himself, Hungary's news had caused him to feel a rush downstairs.

The second half of the meeting was even worse that the first. It went for four hours, and Italy had fallen asleep in his chair. Germany had called a halt to the meeting when Italy started moaning some rather . . . interesting things in his sleep.  
>"Right! The meeting is over, you are all dismissed. Verdammt noch mal, Italien. . ." Germany grumbled as he shook Italy awake again.<br>Australia's eyes were fixed on New Zealand now as he watched her stand. It was very rare that he ever looked at his best friend in a sexual light, especially ever since she rejected his marriage proposal after he became independent from Britain, as well as when she cut her hair shortly after. They were more like brother and sister now. She was always the tomboy he played footy and got drunk with, or skinny dipped in the ocean on Summer or played pranks with on other nations, or wrestled and joked and teased and argued and cried and bled with. But, at times, he really couldn't help admire just how beautiful she was . . .  
>"Hey, loser."<br>Aw, damn, he had been staring.  
>"Everybody's left. It's time to go now, bro," New Zealand had a humorous smirk upon her lips, probably due to her friend's rather stupid expression.<br>"Yeah, 'course . . ." Australia murmured, quickly shuffling out of the room with her.

It was dark as they left into the parking lot, and the two were mostly quiet as they strolled side by side.  
>"Zea," Australia finally spoke.<br>"Hm?"  
>"I care about you, you know. If you ever need anything from me I'll always be here."<br>New Zealand was quiet and had to prevent herself from making any sort of reaction. Where had that come from?  
>"Yeah, Oz, I know," she assured. She had to keep herself from laughing now that she thought about it. Australia was only ever tender to her like this when he wanted something. He wasn't shallow or selfish, don't get her wrong, but she knew that he always shared his care for her in other, more practical ways. Not anything like this smooth load of bull. He just wasn't like that.<br>"I'll see you for our game tomorrow. Remember that it starts nice and early at 8:00. Come earlier for the warmup."  
>"Yeah, I'll remember. See you tomorrow, Zea . . ."<br>New Zealand wandered to the bike stand and unlocked her bike. Some days when the weather was pleasant she preferred to bike to meetings, considering if it wasn't too far, either. She clipped on her helmet and watched as Australia pulled out from the parking space in his green, Holden Commodore Ute, driving away just a little too fast. Maybe one day he would get his head around on just how much damn CO2 he produced with that thing.


	2. Chapter 2

Blurry vision . . . an annoying beeping . . .

New Zealand rolled over to the source. Green, blocky text shouted at her foggy mind – 7:45 AM.  
><em>. . . Wait, what?<em>

She shot up, her head swirling from the suddenness.

_Oh, shit! Why hadn't it gone off sooner? Piece of rubbish!_

New Zealand leapt from her bed, the covers flying and then drifting to the ground from the draft of the drastic movement. Quiet curses were breathed as she tugged on her football boots, hopping out the door and down the front steps as she did so. She had no time for breakfast . . . the instant coffee would have to suffice for now.

When New Zealand arrived at the ground everybody had already taken their places upon the field. She was panting when she took her position, and then saw exactly what she _did not_ want to see first thing in the morning: Australia's smug, smirking face.

"Oh, Zea, look at the one who's late this morning-"

"Fuck off," she interrupted him.

The whistle was blown, and the game had started. New Zealand enjoyed it when she tackled the Aussie just hard enough for him to let out a grunting groan. Although . . . it sounded a little more sultry than usual . . . _Ugh. _Of course he would do something like that, just to gross her out! She frowned when he snickered at her expression, and then flipped him off when he winked.

By the end of the last half the Kiwis had won to the Aussies, of course~

"Good game, Zea," Australia said with a towel around his shoulders, wiping the sweat and dirt from his face. When he was in a good mood Australia was actually a fairly good sport when he lost, even if it was to New Zealand. Although . . . God knows when it's a serious game, like the Rugby World Cup semi-finals just the other day, Australia spits fiery acid like a cornered dragon.

"Mhmm, you too," she said, a bit distracted by her growling stomach. She clutched it absently.

"Here," Australia said while he unzipped his sports bag, noticing her hunger. "I brought a spare sandwich and Powerade for you."

He handed them to her and New Zealand took them slowly. "How did you . . . ?" She was grateful for her friend to be so thoughtful, but she was curious as to how he knew she wouldn't have her own food. Usually _she_ was the one to give _him_ her spares.

"Well . . ." Australia sipped from his blue drink sheepishly. "Who else do you think messed with your alarm?"

New Zealand's thick brows shot up and her eyes hardened.

"You!-"

Australia was laughing too hard to win the wrestle-fight that ensued.

. . .

New Zealand shrieked when she got home at the end of the day, slamming her front door shut and as a result scaring the absolute bejeezus out of her lamb on the couch. Work had just about pushed her over the edge and her anger had worn her right down to the bone. Right now, she was a skeleton on an unstable cliff. A very tired and fed up skeleton.

Politics, while it was her whole _life,_ was not something she liked to think about all that much if she could help it. A little nation could only ever take so much war and hate and conspiracies and economic downfalls and climate change and all that other depressing talk that pressures her to the point where she just wanted to scream and cry and throw things and-

Ugh. New Zealand took in a deep, but albeit shaky breath, held it for a few seconds, and then exhaled.

No. She did not need this right now. The last thing she wanted was for her to lose her fucking mind right before the Rugby finals. Her team needed her intact for that.

She flicked on a light switch to the living room, dumping her bag by the front entrance and strode through to the kitchen to stuff her face with something . . anything . . she was starving! Her lamb plopped from the couch and pursued her.

"An apple a day keeps the doctor away, mate . . ." she smiled down at her lamb who bleated as she clasped the red sphere in her hand. She sighed, cutting it up and feeding a slice to her fluffy companion. Yeah, things weren't really all that bad. Maybe she just needed a holiday . . .

She snorted. What a load of bull! Nations don't take holidays. There was far too much-

And then something caught her eye.

Through the open archway to the kitchen she could see a small folded up piece of paper, patiently waiting upon the coffee table in her living room. Curiously, with her mouth still half full, she placed her apple down slowly upon the kitchen counter top – much to her lamb's dismay, out of reach – and walked towards it.

What the hell? She hadn't put that there.

Swallowing the apple in her mouth New Zealand sat down upon the couch and took the paper in her clutches, taking note of the crude sketch of her – a stick figure with curls, to be more precise - humping a sheep on the front. God damn it, only one person she knew would do that . . . what was he doing in her house again, anyway? Bastard. What happened to good old phones? Or emails? Or texts? She knew he was fully capable. But no, instead he had to take advantage of his emergency key and break in to leave her a stupid letter. She took a side note to check her alarm before she went to sleep this time, too . . .

New Zealand unfolded the paper to reveal the message inside and concluded that she was right. Yep, the exact messy handwriting she was expecting – it was Aussie.

The message was as Follows: _"Sheepshagga cum over when u get back from work pls alright?_  
><em>Cheers Oz xo"<em>

And no, she was not surprised that his spelling and punctuation was outrageously shocking. Was he stupid? Well, maybe. But that wasn't the point. He was just too damn lazy to write formally when it came to his favourite Kiwi, is all. He _was _fully capable of an intelligible sentence, just like he was fully capable of using technology. It always flattered New Zealand in the very least that he knew and trusted her to the point where these things no longer mattered or should be bothered with.

And yes, that last sentence was sarcastic.

Taking nothing but herself, her kiwi and her lamb, New Zealand ambled her way over to Australia's place. He really didn't live that far away from her – just a few minutes at a well paced walk. As kids they never let that opportunity pass them and they always spent time at each others houses, treating each others' like their own, coming and leaving without notice – even when one wasn't inside to greet them.

Aussie still followed that unspoken privilege quite often as you have already seen, and New Zealand sighed. She had started to treat him like it was odd for them to continue doing such things. Maybe her work really was getting to her, after all?

Nevertheless, she looked forward to spending some casual time with Australia. It had been a while, that's for sure.

. . . Little did she know that "casual" was the last thing on the Australian's mind.


End file.
